


Touch

by smolandgrumpy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Feelings, Fluff, Schmoop, Smut, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:55:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21871816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolandgrumpy/pseuds/smolandgrumpy
Summary: The one where Dean misses her so much that he has to go see her and well, she's sleeping...
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 119





	Touch

It’s almost 3AM and Dean knows that it’s too late to show up. Especially, when he shows up unannounced.

They talked before in the evening, when she basically blew him off with an excuse of having to get up early. 

He gets it, he really does, is actually not holding a grudge. 

Yeah, well, maybe he does. Only a little. Because Eileen lives here now and the bunker’s getting too sappy for his taste, not to mention that Dean’s bored out of his mind. And, he misses her, which is really the important part of the picture here. 

He hasn’t been able to see her for over a week because he’s been on haunts with the lovebirds™. A shudder runs along Dean’s spie when he thinks at the feelings he has in his chest. Guess, the sappiness is contagious.

The evenings are the worst, he thinks. Even though the bunker’s warded, but it sure as hell isn’t warded against the noises that comes out of Sam’s bedroom.

Sammy always insists that Dean’s been hearing things, though. Insists, that  _ they didn’t even sleep in the same bed _ . 

Well, sleeping was not what they’ve been doing, that much, Dean can tell.

Dean looks up to see that her apartment's unlit. Yeah, because every decent human being is alseep on weekdays at freaking 3AM, unlike him. And decent she is, got a real job and all, and Dean sometimes wonder what she sees in him. Wonders, how he got so lucky to have someone who doesn’t think that his life is fifty shades of fucked up.

Dean lets himself in, after all she gave him a key. It’s for emergencies and, he thinks, if bored out of his mind and horniness isn’t an emergency, then he doesn’t know what is.

He tries to be quiet, but the damn floor is creaking with every step he takes. He crouches down, unlaced his boots and steps out of them before he took off his jacket and hangs it up on a hook by the door. 

Carefully, he tip toes his way to her bedroom on socked feet, stopping every couple of steps and flinches when the creaking gets too loud.

The door to her bedroom stands ajar, she hates sleeping with the door closed. It’s a thing he got used to, the door ways stays open, even if it’s just a crack.

She’s lying on her side, her face buried in the pillow, her hair up in a bun and the blanket covers only half of her body. He sees enough, the moonlight spills through the holes in the blinds, thinks, it’s the prettiest thing he ever did see.

Dean takes a couple of steps closer to the bed, takes off his socks and pants, got rid of his shirt and henley. All the while, he watches her. Watches her shirtless back move evenly with every breath she takes (another habit he doesn’t really mind she has; sleeping only in panties, and sometimes his boxers, which shouldn’t really turn him on that much but it does).

His dick stirs. It has been too long and seeing her splayed on her bed like a damn fucking meal turns him on, he ain’t gonna lie. And he might be fucked up in the head because seeing her sleep and knowing that he can do whatever he wants with her, is a kink he never knew he had. He takes off his boxer briefs, too. 

The mattress dibs under his weight as he kneels on it. He goes in carefully, trying his damn best not to wake her up and moves up to lie next to her, pulling the blanket over himself and her before he pulls her close to him gently.

His hand wanders, massages her ass. It feels nice, soft, like a ripe fruit ready for picking, and picking is what he wants to do. Dean hooks his thumb in the seam of her panties and pulls it down slowly. So slow, it’s almost agonizing and his heart thumps a staccato beat in his chest.

“Sshhh…” He hushes, as he feels her stir, lowers his lips to kiss her shoulder. His one hand is still pulling her panties down while his other hand was around her hips, lifting her up so he can take them off easier. “Shhh, baby…” 

Dean wants to say more, wants to run his mouth, because that’s really his specialty and it makes him crazy when she talks dirty to him too.

He pushes the panties down and hooks his toe into it to take it off her leg. A skillful thing to have, hookable toes, and he’s proud of  _ that _ .

Dean is painfully hard now and spits into his hand before he jerks himself, moaning at the first touch of his own hand around his aching cock. He pushes two fingers of the hand that is not jerking himself off into his mouth, slicks them up before he probes at and paints around her hole with fingers that are slick from saliva. 

Carefully, he pushes a finger in, past the first knuckle. Bites back a groan when he feels her tight heat surrounds his finger. He plays with her clit after, and she stirs, a soft sound escapes her lips and he stills for a moment, stops jerking off but leaves his finger on her, still drawing lazy circles on her clit. She doesn’t open her eyes. Good for him.

He adds another finger and makes a weird noise in his throat when he feels that she’s even tighter than before with two of his fingers moving inside. His other hand works on himself frantically, his leaking cock producing enough pre come to make it feel so fucking good and he loves it that she’s getting wetter by the minute.

“Fuck, baby.. I gotta..” He mumbles, more to himself because obviously, she can’t hear him. 

Dean pulls her naked back flush against his chest, makes her place her head on his arm, hopes she doesn’t wake up from how hard his heart is beating. He kisses the nape of her neck when he manhandles her into position, draping one leg back over his thigh, is awfully thankful at how flexible she is. 

He fists his cock, strokes a couple of times more, for good measure, before he positions himself to her hole. Dean bites on his tongue when he pushes in slowly, tastes copper on his tongue and squints at tight pressure. He’s gentle, working himself in, breathes steadily through his clenched teeth, hushing her again when she stirs and noses at the back of her neck.

The movement stills when he’s all the way in, has to stop to not blow right away and he works himself through the first tingle in his balls. His other arm drapes around her how, his palm on her stomach, holding her in place.

He sprays kisses on her shoulder as he starts to move. The thrusts are shallow but deep and there’s a moment where he just grinds himself against her. He likes that the most, going in as deep as he can and just fucking  _ grinds _ . 

She’s panting, he can feel her heart beating faster. He knows that he can make her come just like this. Grinding inside of her, carving a room with his cock in her tight, wet heat, knows she loves it when his cockhead pokes at her cervix. And as if on cue, he feels her walls clamping down around his dick. It’s velvety and so fucking tight it makes him see stars and there’s a moan as she opens her eyes and draws her arm back, holds her palm against his face. 

“Dean..” She whispers, tilts her head back and around to look at him and he kisses nose, her cheek, working his way to her mouth. 

He wants to say something but his voice is strained, his balls are drawn up, she’s still squeezing him down there and he comes, bites down on her shoulder, leaving a mark she thankfully won’t have to explain to anyone because it’s fucking winter. 

Dean doesn’t know how much time passed until he can finally think again. She’s grinning when he opens his eyes and he kisses her cheek, her jaw, sucking and licking at the bite mark he just left her with, on her shoulder. 

“I heard you come in.” She chuckles and he blushes at that. 

“I could swear I was silent.” He drawls, kissing her neck, her throat and works his way up to her ear, swirls his tongue around her earlobe, breathes in the smell of her body lotion and sweat.

“Oh please,” She huffs out a laugh.

Dean’s brows furrowed, “You were awake the whole time?”

“I was dozing..” 

She turns her head, kissing his bicep, hands squeezing his arm and he kisses her temple.

“‘M sorry for being loud.”

He noses behind her ear, feels himself soften inside of her but he doesn’t want to pull out. Wants to stay locked like this as long as possible.

“Is it okay if I stay?” He asks and is almost ashamed of himself how whiny he sounds.

She wants to turn around but he holds her there. “No, I want to stay like this.” Dean says and she understands. She always does. He really wonders how he deserved her.

“Okay, but we need to sleep.” She nestles her head into his shoulder, it’s like the place is made for her to fit in and he couldn’t imagine someone else in her place. Doesn’t really want to imagine it, if he's honest.

Dean kisses the back of her neck. “‘M on it.” He mumbles against soft skin and he swears that he wanted to wait for her to fall asleep first, because that’s what he always does, but he’s out as soon as his eyes closed.

  
  



End file.
